


Home With You

by galentines



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, its very soft, look i wrote this while stoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galentines/pseuds/galentines
Summary: A warm hand presses on her chest, just over her sternum.
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57





	Home With You

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fic in months, and have been ACHING to write this ship for ages now. And um, it didn't happen until I was very stoned last night. Consider this a tentative testing of waters? Anyway, they're soft and I love them. Title from Hozier's "In A Week."

When her palm firmly smacks against Zelda’s arm, both women startle awake. 

“Lily?” 

Zelda’s voice is sleepy and concerned, sinking slowly into Lilith’s consciousness. The warm caress is almost enough to even out her breathing. She sighs in relief, willing her heartbeat to slow. It’s another few seconds before she can focus, before the lasting images in her mind finally end their flickering. She tries to say something reassuring, to keep Zelda from worrying too much, but it’s too difficult to catch her breath. 

A warm hand presses on her chest, just over her sternum. And Zelda’s voice again, now alert and firm, urges her to inhale deeply. Lilith grips at her hand like a lifeline, Zelda’s voice and touch being her strongest tether to reality. They exhale together and Lilith feels present again.

In a cozy bed, under a heavy quilt, tangled in the loveliest witch she’s ever known.

Not in Hell.  _ Not  _ with Him. 

Immediately, Lilith draws Zelda closer, pressing kisses against her shoulder, chasing the scent of rose and patchouli up her neck. She nuzzles into it, burying her face in strawberry blonde curls. 

“I’m here, it’s alright.”

Zelda now whispers, murmuring the words against Lilith’s temple, followed by a gentle kiss. They sit in the silence, their own little world beneath an antique quilt. 

“Sorry,” Lilith mumbles, feeling sheepish. It’s only been a few days since her last nightmare - at least, one visceral enough to wake her. Every night fills with the unsettling edges of her subconscious, where everything she tries to push down fills her mind with flames and ash and the scent of brimstone. 

She swears she can smell it, even after she wakes. 

All Zelda does is shush her. They’ve had this conversation before in the past; at 12ams and 3ams, after an afternoon nap or a late morning in. And Lilith tries, truly, to allow herself to have these feelings. Zelda refuses the apologies each time, and Lilith is growing tired of seeing the sadness in her lover’s eyes. But she doesn’t think she’ll ever stop atoning, apologizing just for being there. For existing. 

Lilith doesn’t really talk about what happens in these dreams. There’s of course the implied; hooves and horns, Pandemonium, burning. But she also dreams of the Garden, of being new, being pure. Not yet knowing fear. Those haunt her just as deeply as her visions of bright blue hellfire. 

“Can I--”

Lilith presses her lips again to pale shoulders, shifting her body to cover Zelda’s. She trails kisses down the sharp clavicle, over and around a supple breast. They’ve never discussed this out loud, Lilith’s need to care for Zelda in these moments. But thankfully, Zelda has never questioned it, seeming to understand the importance. 

There’s a difference, Lilith thinks, when she gets to choose this. When her affection, when her care is given freely, not taken with force. 

When she lets herself love. 

And it’s easy when Zelda’s skin is velvet against hers, when her cool fingertips sink into Lilith’s wild hair, reassuring and delicate. 

Until Lilith lays a light peck against her hip bone, and her fingers tighten around the dark brown tresses. Lilith groans at the sensation, gliding down Zelda’s thigh, gently making space between her legs to stretch out. The quilt surrounds her, covering everything in shadow, making it impossible to see or really breathe well. Luckily, Lilith knows the way by heart, and she will sacrifice her airflow for a delectable moment between Zelda’s thighs. 

She hears a muffled moan from above the quilt as her mouth hits home. Zelda fills her nostrils, her lungs, her world. Hell could never find her here, with her tongue buried in Zelda’s soft folds. 

Zelda usually likes it firm and intense, but sometimes Lilith just wants to wander, wants to visit all her favorite places. She knows just where to lick to make Zelda pant, just where to suck to make her shudder. And she knows that fucking Zelda with her tongue, tasting deep and long, will reward her with nails against her scalp and thighs tightening around her ears. 

It’s decadent down here, lush and inviting and Lilith wants to stay forever. She wishes she could be everywhere in Zelda at once, inside and around her clit and against her skin. But she tries her damn best, letting two fingers take the place of her tongue as she focuses it upward, against the twitching bud. She plays with it, letting her lips catch at the edges and closing her mouth over it, licking in circles and in letters. 

She can rarely resist Zelda’s pleas when it’s late like this, when Zelda is drowsy and needy, when her voice comes out in a whine rather than a deep moan. She pushes deeper, uses more force. Zelda falls apart, tension pulsing through her limbs, Lilith’s name dripping from her lips. It sounds like a prayer, and Lilith basks in the glory. 

She spends several moments letting her lips wander the damp skin of Zelda’s inner thigh before resting a cheek just below her belly button. Lilith waits for their breaths to sync before emerging from the covers. 

Zelda’s now sweaty hands cup at Lilith’s cheeks, her eyes silently questioning. Lilith smiles, and that seems to be enough. Her leg pushes up between Lilith’s, putting delicious pressure where her flesh throbs. Sleep threatens to take both of them, but they work to make the most of what time they have. Lilith is already snuggled soundly in Zelda’s arms, when her hips finally stroke down and Zelda’s thigh hits her just right. She comes with a shudder that’s lost in between Zelda’s shoulder and neck. 

A light breeze from the open window cools her skin, brushing against her shoulder, and it’s so unlike the air in the pit. Instead, she dreams of cold fingertips worshipping her skin and red hair clouding her vision. She sleeps until morning. 


End file.
